The Path of the Dark Harlequin
by IKilledMisa
Summary: A dark eldar trueborn's entire family and Kabal is killed and she is outlawed from Commorragh. When she is found wounded and dying in the Webway by a Harlequin Solitaire she may be able to rebuild her life but will her hunger for revenge and hatred of those who made her the last of her line prevent that?
1. Slave Raid

Drakira smiled at her reflection in the mirror, she wore her black Kabalite armour with purple edging and gold Dark Eldar script, spikes jutting from her pauldrons, this was the armour of the Kabal of Stolen Shadows, the Kabal led by her father, Archon Neroxis. She tied back her long, thick ebony hair the slight natural kink showing her many layers, her two front bangs which were dyed the same purple as her armour where kept lose, framing her beautiful face. An overwhelming sense of superiority washed over her, she was a Trueborn to the Archon and now after months of carefully planned raids and strategised attacks she was finally going to prove her schemes were worthwhile. She was still young, barely 200 years old and many of her father's enemies and even his allies considered her impatient, reckless and unreliable. Archon Neroxis of course knew better he could see Drakira was planning something big and she was, if she was successful it would be the greatest slave raid for over 2,500 years. Drakira was under no illusions this would be hard even with all the carefully chosen raids to whittle away at the Imperium's outposts and draw enforcements away from the colony. A knock came at her door and an aggressive shriek came from her bed as a dark shape of muted black stood up and skulked towards the door, Skindread, Drakira's beloved pet, an abomination her father gifted her as a child.

Skindread was a monstrous thing, the twisted creation of one of the Haemonculi of The Ebon Sting, his basic form was similar to that of a khymerae though far more skeletal, his hind legs were bowed and digitgrade and his teeth and claws were much bigger and sharper, the carapaces of tyranids were fused onto him to provide an exoskeleton and enforced with bio-mechanical spines down his vertebrae like blades, the most impressive part was his tail, Drakira wasn't sure whether it was natural of bio-mechanical, it could possibly be both, Skindread's tail was longer then his body, segmented like a razor-flail of bio-mechanical vertebrae with a large saw-like barb and rigid spines at the end, it was with this that Skindread would traverse ceilings and walls and slice up or impale unsuspecting enemies, dissecting them silently or impaling them, easily raising them off the ground and dragging them away to be torn apart. Skindread's textured head was clearly once belonging to a tyranid warrior with no visible eyes though it was clear the creature could see, he regularly looked to his mistress for instructional gestures when they were on raids and if even the subtlest movement was made it got his attention, Drakira theorised that the Haemonculus had simply replaced them with bio-mechanical eyes and moved them behind the carapaces and crests. Skindread was always loyal to Drakira even going so far as to sleep in her bed and if anyone approached her sleeping form he'd gladly tear them to shreds. The knock at the door came again. "Yes" said Drakira the door opened and a tall pregnant Lhamaen walked in, Drakira's step-mother, Hekarit, the third wife of her father. "Greetings mother" smiled Drakira and gestured for Skindread to back down, the abomination returned to its spot on the bed, yawned revealing razor-like fangs and observed the two. Hekarit was not Drakira's birth mother but she had raised her, her birth mother had taken her life shortly after giving birth to her trueborn daughter. Archon Neroxis didn't talk about her much but Hekarit was always honest with her step-daughter. Drakira's mother had been a Succubus in the Cult of Strife a relative of Lelith Hesperax no less, she had the beauty, grace and deadly efficiency in combat that was equal to, if not surpassing that of Commorragh's gladiatorial queen but when she gave birth to Drakira she leapt from the spires of Commorragh, nobody knew why but it was assumed she feared the loss of her beauty and skill in battle after the birth of her child. Drakira had inherited her mother's beauty and to keep Archon Neroxis quiet about the disgrace his second wife brought upon the Cult of Strife, Lelith Hesperax had trained Drakira; every time she looked at Drakira she saw the resemblance and was reminded of her family member, the only worthy rival who had met an unworthy end.

"Your Sybarite was looking for you, he asked me to tell you that your troops are waiting in the armoury to hear the plans" said Hekarit sitting down and stroking her baby bump.

"That is good to hear, if all has gone well we will have many new arrivals tonight" replied Drakira her large deep green eyes glimmering with excitement as she slide barbs into her hair.

"Have you been practicing your poisons?" Hekarit asked, as a Lhamaen she belonged to a sisterhood who took their teachings from the dark muse Shaimesh, the Lord of Poisons and was an expert with the most deadly of poisons, she had shared her vast knowledge with her step-daughter teaching her all she knew. Drakira picked up a bright green ammunition crystal and passed it to her step-mother.

"My own special recipe" she smiled proudly. Hekarit looked at the crystal, tapped it sniffed it and finally lightly licked it.

"You have quite the mix in there, Nekros Vitae, Black Orchid and….is that Oblivion's Kiss?" smiled the mistress of poisons

"Right as always Mother, I'll let you know how it works on the battle field"

"Please do my dearest, now if you'll excuse me I have an appointment" she said getting up.

Drakira marched down to the armoury with Skindread. Her troops were checking weapons and performing maintenance on skyboards but all stood to attention as she entered. Drakira's Sybarite, Aryes approached her and saluted. "My lady" he said. "Your warriors stand ready for instruction"

"Good" smirked Drakira and looked at the Kabalite warriors that were assembled proudly sporting the black armour with purple edging and gold symbol of the Kabal of Stolen Shadows. "With our raids on the other settlements this outpost will be under minimal guard. I do not expect there to be many infantry guarding the colony but I do expect what little defences they have to be very powerful. Armoured vehicles and mounted heavy weaponry, most likely. The first to enter will be the strike team" she said turning to those with skyboards. "You will provide a distraction for those on the sniper team, led by Sybarite Aryes to find cover and try to cripple the defences while your at it" she said and looked at the sniper team. "As soon as you exit the portal find cover, the Dark Lances should easily be able to shred the heavy defences, the strike team will reform and wait for my team." Drakira leant over the battle grid and brought up a holographic representation of where they would strike and described in detail the formations they would use and the strategy that would provide them with victory. "The ground infantry will be led by me, with the seeds of chaos and terror sown my small team will move in small, fast groups, the strike team will keep cover as we infiltrate the colony. Once we have entered we will have won" she smiled showing the plan on the holograph. "Any questions?" she asked but everyone was silent. Only Skindread broke the silence as he coughed up part of an undigested bolter. Drakira smiled amused by her pet she loaded her splinter pistol and kissed her blast pistol before finally picking up her precious Agoniser. "Now let us remind those why they should fear the dark" she smiled darkly.

* * *

The small army swiftly deployed through the portal, Aryes and his team were swiftly settled in cover and taking out any and all heavy weapons, huge turrets now lay in ashes and the riders on their skyboards picked and maimed anybody who wasn't fortunate enough to encounter the swift death of the dark lances. Drakira and her party entered the battlefield hungry for the suffering they would inflict. "Kill them only if you must" Drakira hissed at her team. Skindread growled and took his battle stance the party advanced with the Hellions providing adequate cover. When it looked like all their large weaponry was destroyed or immobilized a swarm of space marines poured out of the bunkers and a large tank headed towards the small band. A few cries of pain escaped the lips of her fellows blood pouring out their wounds and soaking the soil. "Skindread! Enter the base kill all reinforcements!" she ordered the bloodthirsty creature. Skindread charged off seemingly disappearing in shadows only to emerge spitting acidic venom from his fangs. Drakira rolled out of the way of the hailstorm of bullets, she looked back and saw her entire infantry group was dead, blown to smoking, burning pieces by the predator, the snipers were doing what they could to destroy the surprise troops and tank. Drakira swiftly darted around the tank, if the space marines would shoot her it would need to be through their own weaponry. She kept moving looking for another place to hide, somersaulting, rolling and back flipping as a hail of bullets surrounded her. Drakira knew that if her snipers were going to take down the predator she'd need to get away from it. Drawing her splinter & blast pistol she dived out of the way firing poisonous darts at the space marines and blasts of dark matter at the predator. The skyboard riders momentarily retreated to where the snipers where before remerging to finish off the reinforcements that had joined the fray. Drakira had been wounded but her adrenaline rush kept her from noticing and the swarms of space marines crawling in the agony and torment of the poison that was now rushing through their bodies from her weapons rejuvenated her slightly.

Once she was at a safe distance a volley of dark matter blasts from the dark lances tore the predator apart. The last few space marines where holding their ground but they were running out of men and ammo. The lead called for back up but nobody headed his words. Drakira smiled put away her blast pistol and drew her Agoniser, the whip flashed with purples, blues, reds and pinks as power surged within it Drakira darted towards her foes shooting all but the leader for she would make him scream for mercy before she cut out his tongue. As the remaining space marines fell to the ground riling in pain and choking on their own vomit from the vile poison the young Trueborn had concocted she lashed the Agoniser at their leader. The large man blocked the whip with his arm, had it been an ordinary whip he would be fine the genetically modified man cried out as the Agoniser latched onto his nervous system, his entire body spasmed and he lost control of his limbs falling. Drakira whipped him again and again in a manic state of frenzy the armour started to break from the whipping but the Trueborn would not stop invigorated by the pain she inflicted. The screams of pain and curses just made her strike more feeding on his suffering. The rest of her army advance from their cover towards the colony entrance. Blood streamed down the space marine's face as his eyes burst from their sockets due to the power surging through the Agoniser. Aryes stepped forward and reached out to his general who was now flogging a corpse. "My lady you are injured" he said breaking her out of her adrenaline rush. Drakira felt her shoulder and the gaping hole in her armour where the bolt had entered and exited her body, she felt the pain radiating through her though she showed none of it on her face.

"It's just a flesh wound" she said indifferently and started to walk towards the entrance of the colony but Aryes stepped in front of her, she could feel her Sybarites gaze from behind his helm.

"My lady I must insist you take care of your injuries" he said. Drakira draw her splinter gun and fixed it into Aryes neck she glared in a way that said 'how dare you tell me what to do' she could feel her finger tightening around the trigger and could feel the gaze of her Kabal. Aryes trembled slightly and she removed the gun.

"If it will make you feel better, Sybarite" she said affectionately rummaging through her small pack for bandages. Aryes helped her and then the entered the colony.

Darkness filled the corridors, lights had been smashed in and the floor was slick with blood and entrails were thrown about like the toys of a demented child. Space marine corpses littered the halls and ammunition was everywhere like they were firing at something the couldn't see. Some looked like they had been melted from the inside out others where barely recognisable their armour torn apart like paper and their skin chewed and shredded. "This is Skindread's work isn't it?" asked Aryes. Drakira smiled at the Sybarite

"I told him to slay the reinforcements that were in here" she replied crushing a skull under her foot with a foul cracking.

"Where are the prisoners?" asked a Kabalite Warrior as they checked the rooms

"They'll be in the heart of the colony, the mon-keigh always have such places they can scurry off too either in the centre of the structure or in the lower levels" replied Drakira she turned to Aryes who accessed a computer on his arm and scanned the structure creating a holomap.

"As always our leader is correct there is a large gathering of life signs in the lower levels of this structure there are also various other life signs within the lower chambers, it can be safe to assume not all made it inside the protected zone, there's also an unidentified life sign moving very quickly within the pipes and vents, I think its safe to say that's Skindread, he's moving with the other life signs" said Aryes

"He's herding them for us, to the lower levels" Drakira said with a slight chuckle in her voice as they headed downwards.

* * *

Archon Neroxis was informed of his daughters victory by a simple message from her stating 'We need more slave transport'. The Archon could not help but smile smugly he had given Drakira a lot of transport as is but if she needed more….his blood tingled with excitement, she had been more than successful she had outdone all expectations, an achievement most pleasing to him. The Archon sent Drakira more transport and more warriors of the Kabal to escort the slaves and set about making a suitable welcome home celebration for his first Trueborn child.

Bloodied slaves were sent out into Commorragh with invitations to the most influential of the Kabals and Wych Cults while other slaves were preparing a feast. Archon Neroxis stood on the balcony of his palaces tall dark spire staring down at the twisted labyrinthine city. His black hair hung loosely over his shoulders as he looked out over the dark city, his dark eyes fixed on nothing and everything. "Your standing here won't make her return any faster" said Hekarit approaching her husband.

"It doesn't matter, my enemies know that she is my weakness, I must guard her at all costs" he turned to his wife and stroked her baby bump. "As I will do for this little one when he enters the world"

"You have always taught her the ways of Commorragh you've poured all you knowledge of combat and politics into her just as I have poured all my knowledge of poisons" she said. "We can do no more"

"True, sadly true" said Archon Neroxis rubbing his forehead. "Ah, but I should not be so surely, Drakira returns triumphant and Asdrubael Vect has agreed to attend our celebrations, come my dear you must be rested for the festivities" he said forcing a smile.

* * *

Trains of wailing captives entered the dark city. Drakira smiled as their cries of sorrow and pain fed her, whips stripped the skin and her warriors kept their composure as they entered Commorragh. Skindread was not so modest, he climbed on all the walls of the cages terrifying the slaves whipping his bladed tail at them before snarling and occasionally snapping before jumping to the next cage. Drakira giggled amused at her pets antics she knew he could easily bite through the bars and tear the slaves to pieces but he was content to just torment them for his mistress's amusement. The residents of Commorragh had emerged to see the spectacle, cheering at the seemingly endless train of slave cages. Drakira observed the spectators instinctively reaching for her weapons in case somebody tried to steal her prize or more likely assassinate her. The skin in her shoulder was starting to knit itself together again but the pain was still there. Other Kabalite warriors had joined the crowd, some she recognised, not the individuals but she recognised the Kabals they were from, there were many from the Kabal of the Poisoned Tongue though she wasn't sure why they would be there, they had no affiliation with the Kabal of Stolen Shadows although their presence made her rethink that thought, Warriors from the Kabal of the Black Heart, the Kabal of the Dying Sun, the Kabal of the Flayed Skull and the Kabal of the Obsidian Rose where also there she knew these Kabals well, officially they were allies of the Kabal of Stolen Shadows but Drakira preferred to air on the side of caution. Her eyes where locked on them but they simple gestured in respectful greeting which set her slightly at ease.

The dark, twisted metallic spires, jagged buildings and monolithic architecture stretched for as far as the eye-could-see. The dark realm of macabre beauty and glittering horror. Twisted acts of torture were performed in the streets, flesh hung from the walls with the symbols of the Wych cults, Kabals and Haemonculi covens, this was where Drakira was born and this dark twisted city of depravity and suffering was all she knew. She smiled to herself as the screams and wails of the captives echoed like all the twisted and demented souls in Hell accompanied her to her father's palace, the Spire of Stolen Shadows, decorated with textured resin, bones and polished obsidian the dark palace echoed the same insane magnificence. Flags and banners of flayed skin hung baring the symbol of the Kabal of Stolen Shadows branded into it. "You seem glad to be home, my lady" said Ayres. Drakira nodded.

"Not as glad as I am to be home victorious" the Trueborn replied, her emerald green eyes glinting.


	2. Diplomatic Mission

Drakira let her beautiful black hair down and placed a jagged tiara of obsidian, jewels and twisted black metal on her head, like the crown of a crazed monarch. She painted black eye-liner and purple eye shadow on her eyes, she wore an elegant purple and black dress which was one shouldered and hid her wound underneath an ornate spiked pauldron. She looked at her reflection wondering if there was anything she should change but there was nothing, Drakira had never looked more beautiful and radiant she couldn't help but wonder if her real mother ever looked like that. She sighed, adjusting her breathing for the tight corset and slowly closed her eyes and tried to push the thought out of her mind. She opened her eyes and put on a false smile. "Skindread, come" she said turning her head and the strange creature came bounding joyfully towards her. The trueborn knelt down and attached a chain to his spiked collar. "Come on, let us go and meet the masses"

The hall was full of guests Archons of various Kabals accompanied by some of their court and some of their warriors, Incubi, Succubi and their escorts from various Wych Cults and even a few of the raider pirates were there. Archon Neroxis was pleased with the turnout, he stood on the grand staircase wearing ornate ceremonial armour and as was tradition he had a husk blade as his side-arm. Hekarit was in full bloom wearing a black dress with brightly coloured but carefully coordinated patterns so as to make her look thinner, her platinum blonde hair was tied up with a barbed hair-tie and a circlet of bone and blades graced her. She greeted the guests and thanked them for attendance every so often congratulating them on their own endeavours before moving onto the next guest.

Neroxis did not bother with his wife's little game, not all the guests had arrived and he would rather small talk with everyone when they'd all arrived rather than have to keep circling the room like a vulture looking for those he hadn't greeted yet. He looked at the guards that were dotted everywhere, heavily armed, he doubted anyone would have the nerve to cause trouble on such an occasion but he couldn't rule it out, it was no different than swimming with a school of sharks. He noticed Archon Fen'danneryn, the Archon of the Kabal of Razor Tears and glared the two were rivals officially at peace but regularly came to blows. Neroxis was a supporter of Asdruebael Vect while Fen'danneryn was far from it he believed Commorragh should be rolled by all the Archons, or at least that's what he said, Neroxis knew that what he really meant was he wanted to replace Vect. Neroxis glared at his rival tempted to slay him and torture him until…."Father" a gently call from the top of the stairs broke Neroxis from his hate filled trance. The Archon turned, his dark eyes went wide as he saw his daughter looking more like a divine vision than someone who had just returned from raiding. He couldn't help but smile.

"My dearest" he said holding out his hand to her as she descended the staircase. "You look wonderful, I've never been more proud than I am now" he said.

"You really have outdone yourself, Father" said Drakira taking her father's hand. "I've never seen so many guests of such variety attend your palace"

"The Supreme Overlord of Commorragh, Asdruebael Vect" announced the Chamberlain and an intimidating presence walked in. Skindread let out a low growl but was hushed by Drakira. Vect, wearing his usual ghost armour and his company of guards and escorts approached Archon Neroxis and Drakira.

"Your Excellency, you grace us with your presence" said Neroxis bowing

"Oh do not be so formal Neroxis, you are boring enough already" said Vect idly waving his hand. The Overlord of Commorragh locked his malevolent eyes onto Drakira like a wolf watching its prey. "So…this is your little daughter, I must admit I'm impressed that one so young could accomplish such a feat. Tell me girl, how long had you been working on this raid?" he asked. Drakira curtseyed nervously, she didn't like Vect, the way he looked lustfully at her disturbed her, if it had been anyone else she would've decapitated them but this man she could do nothing about. She looked at Neroxis and he nodded.

"Tell our guest, my dear" he said.

"In truth your Excellency, it did not take very long to plan" she said gently. "The raids that led up to it however I had to plan like what the Mon-keigh's call chess, first of all I decided to target some outposts. Then I made a very risky plan to attack some of the settlements, we took minimal slaves but enough to strike fear into the civilians. With the civilians scared and the outposts under manned the Imperium rehoused the civilians on a larger colony, we went back to the older colonies to make it seem like we didn't know what we were doing and lead the mon-keigh's into a false sense of security" Drakira explained, Vect smiled. "Once we had taken a few more outposts and settlements we still pretended we didn't know about the large colony and then when the time was right we struck quickly and without mercy."

"Very good, what if your plan didn't work?"

"Impossible, I ran all the possible scenarios." Drakira insisted. "Father always taught me to only consider a plan successful when you've won in every possible outcome" Vect smiled wickedly at her little outburst

"I wise lesson to learn and one sadly not everybody grasps" he said

"Dearest, please go and greet your other guests, I must talk with our beloved Supreme Overlord" said Archon Neroxis. Drakira looked at his face she could see him hiding something but couldn't tell whether it was out of protection or deceit. She curtseyed to them both.

"As you wish, farewell your Excellency" she smiled

"I hope to see _you _very soon my dear" hissed Vect, his oily voice made Drakira's skin crawl but she simply smiled at him.

* * *

The celebration carried on wines made with blood flowed like rivers and there was much chatter amongst the hosts and their guests. The haunting music of the Dark Eldar filled the hall with a chorus of wails and screams of pain, a symphony of suffering but to the Dark Eldar suffering was a cause for much merriment and the hours flew by. "Does your wife not wish to join us?" asked Tarsidhe, Archon of the Kabal of the Fiend Ascendant.

"Regretfully she was tired out so far along in the pregnancy" replied Neroxis

"Shame it's a smashing party" said Tarsidhe sipping the wine. To hear a compliment from Tarsidhe who was addicted to the extravagant and exotic was quite rare.

"Haven't been very lucky with women have Neroxis" said T'myle, an Archite of the Wych cult, The Cult of Woe, the brother of Neroxis's first wife, a cold woman who only married him for political gain and didn't even share the same room as him. Neroxis's eyes narrowed he could see the drunk was looking for a fight.

"Your sister left me, it was her choice" he said calmly

"It's not like you fought for her or anything" smirked T'myle

"She didn't fight to marry me in the first place"

"You blame her when the whore you married threw herself off the spire after birthing _your _child?" Drakira saw something in her father snap, she had seen the murderous glare in his eyes before but never so bright as now she saw him reach for his husk blade and stepped forward.

"My Mother was weak, I am not. I would thank you not to violate the decorum of _my _celebration by dragging back old ghosts, it is beneath us" she said assertively

"Well said" smiled Tarsidhe. T'myle growled and stomped off as he felt them laughing at him. "Pfft, touchy little fellow isn't he?" chuckled Tarsidhe.

"More wine, Tarsidhe?" asked Neroxis. "I could do with a drink" the two Archons continued their drinking. Drakira wondered around with an uneasy feeling since the spat between her father and T'myle and if she had learned anything in life she had learned not to ignore her instincts. She ignored the leers from Vect and thanked the Archons, Incubi and pirates for their congratulations and praise but she only stayed briefly. She noticed the Haemonculi with Skindread some admiring him, others discussing improvements or what they would do differently and some poked and prodded the beast like a specimen earning them a bite from him sometimes he'd even rip an arm off but being Haemonculi it was of little more than a scratch from a kitten and grew back or would be easily fixed. Drakira suddenly saw who she was looking for, Lileth Hesperax, the gladiatorial queen was by herself savouring the wine and listening to the music in a trance like state, most likely she was planning what show of bloodletting she would perform in tune to the music. "Lady Hesperax" said Drakira curtseying. The beautiful succubus smiled at Drakira and left her trance-like state.

"Greetings my dear Drakira, congratulations on such a successful slave raid, I had my doubts you could bring back so many. You need not address me as 'Lady Hesperax' just as I do not address you as Lady Drakira Tz'eianyx"

"I say it out of respect for my teacher and family of my Mother"

"You were always a smart girl, perhaps too smart" smiled Lileth

"I know some want me dead, none have yet achieved this ever-so-difficult task. Tell me have you heard mutterings from the Cult of Woe?" Drakira asked

"No more than usual, I heard that little spat between Archon Neroxis and that drooling, simpleton T'myle. He has enraged many and not just amongst the Kabals, there is a _very_ large price set on his head" Lileth said smiling slightly. "I would not worry about the Cult of Woe but I must confess there have been murmurs in the bowels of Commorragh, something is restless, though I and none of my associates know what" Lileth said sipping her wine. "I see Archon Ysallin beconing me, excuse me my dear" said Lileth bowing her head. Drakira returned the bow and considered Lileth's words, she remembered when she had returned to Commorragh, on the surface it was normal but she felt something deeper and unusual the dark city felt different, agitated, insidious like a caged animal that looked calm but at any moment could attack.

"So this is the champion of the day" said a frosty voice. Drakira spun on her heel to be face to face with a woman dressed in finery that put Drakira's dress to shame and escorted by warriors of the Kabal of the Poisoned Tongue. Drakira did not recognise the woman but she recognized her weapon 'The Lady's Blade', this was Lady Malys, Archon of the Kabal of the Poisoned Tongue and the former lover of Vect. "You don't remember me do you?" said Malys softly fanning herself with a bladed steel fan.

"I confess I do not Lady Malys" replied Drakira

"At least you know my blade, if not my face. You were very young when I first met you a newborn in fact barely a few hours old"

"Did you know my Mother?" Drakira found herself asking. Malys nodded.

"That I did, a fine woman, your mother, but what you are actually asking is do I know why your mother killed herself and truly, I do not know" she said bluntly. "She did however come to me before she threw herself from that spire. She made me promise to see you safe, few things are more powerful than a promise kept, make of that what you will, my dear" she said with a cold sincerity that sent shivers down Drakira's spine.

"Malys!" the angry hiss of Archon Neroxis interrupted the conversation. "What are you doing here? You should not be here" he snarled trying not to shout. Lady Malys raised a hand to silence him.

"Fear not Neroxis, I have no intention of interrupting your attempts to get on Vect's good side or jeopardising them in any way, shape or form. I have simply come to pay my respects and give my congratulations to your beautiful daughter" she said calmly and turned her attention back to Drakira. "You've grown to be a fine young woman, congratulations on your success, hopefully I will be able to see your skills for myself one day" she said.

"Thank you Lady Malys, you do me a great honour" Drakira said curtseying.

"Such manners well we had best be going I would not want the house of Tz'eianyx to suffer the ire of our Overlord because I overstayed my welcome" Malys said with a slight laugh in her voice she and Neroxis bowed to each other than Malys and her entourage left. The rest of the night seemed to be a blur of drinking and mingling. Drakira kept watching and listening she saw Tarsidhe and Fen'danneryn talking to each other though she could not discern their conversation from the occasional laughing it seemed to be the swapping of old war stories, her father was still talking to Vect though the tone of their conversation was far more serious.

* * *

The days that followed were as normal Drakira spent her time training with her Kabal and occasionally visited the gladiatorial arenas. She saw little of her father which was not surprising to her and Hekarit spent most of her time resting through the pregnancy or brewing poisons for her husband and step-daughter. The Kabal of Stolen Shadows raids and influence where greatly bolstered and one day when Drakira was running the gauntlet with Skindread her father sent for her. After finishing the gruelling training course Drakira found her father in his throne waiting for her. Skindread sat attentively while she approached him tired and sore from the gauntlet and bowed. "You sent for me Father" she said.

"Yes I did dearest, I need you to go on a mission for me" Neroxis said calmly. Drakira smiled in anticipation, was she to captain a raid in her father's absence? Escort one of the other Kabals? The thoughts raced through her mind but Neroxis raised his hand to stop her. "It is nothing exciting. I need you to go on a diplomatic mission to the Slave Colony of Cammyrouge-37. All you need to do is find out how much the Salyinda Clan want for housing the excess slaves you brought from the Mon-keigh colony and get the best possible price then return to me"

"Why me Father? Isn't this something you'd normally do? Or perhaps one of the Dracons?" asked Drakira slightly surprised at her father's request. He nodded calmly.

"Normally I would but there have been murmurs as I'm sure you've noticed, any absence of mine will invite trouble. You will have troops and you only need to stay for a few days, a week at most. Enjoy their food beat some slaves and laugh at the Slayinda's lousy jokes. I believe you are more than capable of acting as my diplomat" Archon Neroxis said proudly. Drakira couldn't help but smile.

"It shall be as you ask Father, of course" she said bowing

"Good tomorrow you will prepare an entourage and travel to Cammyrouge-37, the Salyinda Clan know to expect you" the Archon said and dismissed his daughter.

Drakira emerged from the Webway portal onto Cammyrouge-37. It was very different to what Drakira had imagined she had read about the small planet on the database and it was referred to as a 'volcanic tundra' but actually seeing it was something quite different. Though mostly a mixture of reddish brown rock and numerous crystal formations of various colours and sizes there was a diverse amount of plants, trees, bushes and shrubs dotted the landscaped. Large geysers and hot springs also marked the strange planet with more crystals growing around the banks of the larger springs which had water that had a strange reddish tint from the minerals abound. "Hard to believe such a spectacular place could hide such a den of misery" said Ayres

"Thinking of running your own little slave farm, Ayres?" asked Drakira

"Never my lady, such a life is boring and repetitive" said the Sybarite

"Good because I would have to kill you if you did" smiled Drakira darkly. Skindread let out a low threatening hiss at something in the bushes, he tugged on his chain and pawed the earth threateningly. "We should not tarry, the geothermal nature of this planet means its wildlife will be varied" Drakira said and led her company along the dirt road. The more they walked the more diverse Cammyrouge-37 seemed to become strange animals poked their heads out of the wilds and then hid again. The sun was starting to set by the time the party had reached the slave colony. Thousands upon thousands of slaves of countless species and origins were packed together working the farms, Drakira wondered how many other thousands were working in the mines. The Salyinda clan members acted as the tyrannical slave masters beating their charges and screaming at them to work faster. Every so often a slave would collapse out of exhaustion and the Salyinda's would whip them with barbed electric whips until they either returned to work or died in the filth. Large aliens that looked similar to horses but far more muscular and with large tusks and horns pulled a cart of the dead, the slaves would pile those who had died of the beatings or exhaustion to be wheeled away with looks of horror and dread on their faces. Drakira wondered why they had such looks of horror when the distinct sound of Venom sky-chariots distracted her attention. "They know what will happen to those bodies" said a Salyinda clan member dressed in robes of distinct finery and intricate detail.

"What _will _happen to the bodies?" asked Drakira, her morbid curiosity taking over

"They are taken to the Grinding House where their bodies are ground up into nothing more than bloody sludge and put in containers, the slaves then use this sludge as a fertiliser for the crops, nothing goes to waste here" he replied. "Forgive me, I am Khalohin Salyinda, youngest grandson of our Patriarch" the clan member identified himself. Drakira saluted and bowed her head.

"Well met Khalohin, I am Drakira Tz'eianyx, Trueborn daughter of Archon Neroxis Tz'eianyx of the Kabal of Stolen Shadows" she replied, Skindread pulled at his chains sniffing the Venom and it's riders. "This is Skindread, my pet" she said twisting the chain at the clank of the links Skindread sat down obediently.

"Impressive, I've never seen such a beast like him but come, I have been bid to bring you to the keep. I have brought transportation for your warriors in case you wish a more direct route from the slave quarters"

"You cannot keep slaves cowed to you by flying over them" Drakira replied. "Ayres you and half the troops will travel through the slums, any of them even look at you funny I want to be able to hear the screams from the keep" she ordered. The Sybarite saluted in acceptance of these orders and split up the troops as Khalohin helped Drakira onto the sky-chariot. Skindread pounced onto the bottom of the Venom and climbed up to his mistress like a spider adhereing to every surface.

As they flew over the grounds and the troops left behind became a small dot on the horizon Drakira saw just how large the slave quarters were. Khalohin looked at his trueborn guest and smiled. "Is there anything in particular you'd like to know about the colony. The Archon stated in his message that you have not come here before"

"We hear the stories in Commorragh but none do your clan's colony any justice. They say it is a large dung heap and the Salyinda clan are nothing but inbred bottom-feeders trying to cash in on Commorragh's success" she replied. "I am glad that my father told me not to heed these tales and provided me with the geography of Cammyrouge-37"

"Your father is far more wiser than most" replied Khalohin

"What are those?" asked Drakira pointing to the strange tusked and horned horses

"Those are our beasts of burden, a native species to this planet we call them rhanadems. They're mostly vegetarian but like most of the creatures here due to the nature of the planet if the volcanoes are active they will resort to eating meat." Khalohin answered and pointed at a large building like a fortress hidden in forest. "That is Screamers Peak my family's keep and fortress" Khalohin said as they approached. In the courtyard of Screamers Peak were more strange creatures; mounts that were like large reptilian centipedes, the scales of these strange creatures varied greatly ranging from reds to greens and the crests were also extremely varied some looking like decoration, others more like armour. Drakira could honestly say she did not like the look of the beasts and tried not to look at them.

The sun was slowly setting and Drakira was eager to meet the rest of her hosts. She noticed some of the Salyinda clan whispering as she walked past though Khalohin seemed oblivious to this. "Archon Neroxis sent some of your belongings over we have put them in your room. There is still some time before dinner if you'd like to settle in" he said.

"Thank you, where will I be staying?"

"In the Vanyll wing, it is where all our guest quarters are, it is the only wing that isn't riddled with unlocked traps. This way" he said leading Drakira up some stairs. The Trueborn observed her host with interest he did not seem too fond of her, she could only assume from the horrid things she'd heard from other Commorrites that he'd had very bad experiences and therefore didn't think much of anyone from Commorragh. Drakira secretly set herself her own objective, she was determined to prove him wrong. "This is your room" said Khalohin opening one of the doors in the hall. There was a luxurious room in different shades of cream with crystal chandeliers and décor, silk sheets lined the large bed and soft cream velvet curtains hung from the windows.

"Thank you Khalohin" said Drakira smiling she could see from the expression on his face he was not expecting thanks or even acknowledgement. "Is there a particular dress code for tonight's dinner?" she asked. Khalohin paused and looked at Skindread who was skulking around the room clearly looking for any traps, bombs or other items that would hurt its master.

"Not tonight, tomorrow will be formal attire though." Khalohin said watching Skindread with a puzzled expression. He bowed to Drakira and bid himself leave, the trueborn was alone. She looked through the things that her father had sent, weapons of varying kinds, poisons and numerous dresses and assorted clothing and accessories which had obviously been picked out by Hekarit as Neroxis wouldn't have a clue about a young ladies fashion. Drakira smiled she already missed home, she remembered some of the happiest times she'd had, she remembered when she was an infant trying to pick up her father's Huskblade the Archon had been amused at her tenacity she remembered him carrying both her and the blade he told her stories of raids he'd been on and worlds he'd visited she remembered how sad he looked when he talked about those worlds. It was true that both Drakira and her father were thought to be more than a little odd due to them seemingly wishing to be anywhere other than Commorragh or perhaps just wishing to be free from The Thirst was beyond comprehension but Archon Neroxis was clever he knew that his enemies saw it as a weakness and exploited it, it was only too late when their heads were missing and their bodies mutilated that their mistakes were known, he had numerous dealings with the Haemonculi in The Ebon Sting they had 'improved' him significantly. Neroxis had even had them 'improve' Drakira so her skin knitted together making her heal almost instantly. Drakira never remembered having this done so she concluded that she couldn't have been more than a baby.

* * *

Drakira was escorted down to the dining hall, various members of the Salyinda Clan were gathered around the large table awaiting their guest. There were platters of shellfish decorated with the varied fruits of the tundra, a selection of fish from the rich seas and oceans, large cuts of spiced meats and various silver ornate tureens embossed with patterns of the native creatures of Cammyrouge-37 and filled with soups. There was a spare chair near the head of the table which had been set aside for her. She walked over to it and the Patriarch of the Salyinda clan, an old fellow with piercing eyes and his dark grey hair, now made into dreadlocks with bone hanging from them was tied up. He wore finer garments than the rest of the family in various shades of scarlet and gold with a high collar, he gestured for all to sit. Wine was poured and Drakira watched carefully in case of any poison the Patriarch looked at his guest inquisitively as he sipped his wine. "My grandson tells me you are not like many from Commorragh" he said. Drakira knew she must tread carefully with what she said in case it was repeated.

"I would not know what the 'many' are like" she smiled cutting a fish. The Patriarch laughed a solemn, hollow sound that sounded more like it should come from a demon.

"You are most certainly your Father's daughter, Archon Neroxis did not look down on us either or boast of exploits"

"My Father and I prefer to let our actions speak for us" Drakira quickly replied before taking a bite of her food.

"Indeed, it is your actions that has led you here is it not? It is the slaves retrieved on your raid you wish me to house"

"Father, Lady Drakira has only just arrived must you bore her with business after her travels?" smiled a brown haired woman at the table with the same piercing eyes as the Patriarch. The old one sighed and nodded.

"Forgive me, my lady, I had forgotten that you have only just arrived. Do you find the quarters to your liking"

"Very much so, your clan are most gracious hosts" replied Drakira, her plate being topped up with meats.

"It is rare for one from the Dark City to have such manners" said one of the men at the table, judging from his age and looks he was the son of the Patriarch. Drakira's suspicion was confirmed when the Patriarch addressed him.

"Speaking of manners you should mind yours, boy" he snarled

"I speak only what we all think" the son snarled back. The Patriarch flashed him a hateful look that Drakira had seen worn on the faces of the slave masters as they beat their charges within an inch of their lives. The dinner continued with more talking, mainly questions about the politics of Commorragh, Drakira answered to the best of her abilities but was careful of what she said, the slavers on the outskirts of Dark Eldar space enquiring about the events of Commorragh raised her suspicions though she hid this from her hosts.

Upon the return to her room she found Skindread had been fed, a bowl of chewed bones not of Eldar origin lay on the floor with her pet coiled around it like a dragon his long bladed tail waving back and forth in recognition of his mistress's safe return. Drakira undid her hair clasp and her beautiful mane of wavy ebony locks cascaded down her back she picked up the plate of bones from where Skindread sat and put it outside her door for the slaves and servants to take away. She undressed herself and slipped into her nightdress. Walking over to the window she looked over the stunning night landscape she could see the ocean in the distance and under the light of the planets three moons she could see the waves gently lapping against the shore a contented sigh escaped Drakira's lips and she started thinking about The Fall, how her people had come to be in such a dire existence, a shadow of their former existence but then the Commorrite in her returned, how foolish she was, once all the universe belonged to her people and it would come back to them. The sudden scolding of herself reminded her that she was not some lesser creature she was one whose ancestors had not fled but had cunningly hidden only to emerge stronger, feeding off the pain of those lesser creatures.


	3. Betrayal

Note: Any Psychic chatter will be put in bold from this chapter onwards

* * *

Drakira's stay on Cammyrouge-37 was not unpleasant she would often walk through the slave grounds observing the facilities and way of life. She would watch Skindread scare the slaves into faster working and charging around the farms just for the fun of it. Khalohin had been assigned as her escort and she often consulted him about life on Cammyrouge-37 and the strange animals that lived there. In truth she wished he would go away so she could enjoy the space and freedom that Cammyrouge-37 provided. "This is a nice place, it's so different to Commorragh" she sighed

"Do you not like Commorragh, my lady?" asked Khalohin. Drakira pondered the question, after all it was the only place she'd known.

"I like Commorragh but here it is different. There are miles and miles of nothing, in Commorragh despite its huge size it is always packed. They are both beautiful but beautiful in different ways, I suppose." Drakira smiled at herself as she started to slip into philosophical thoughts. "But we should get back I am eager to start the negotiations on our slaves"

"But my lady it has only been four days since you arrived" said Khalohin

"Exactly, we should discuss business, should we not?" Drakira replied, something felt wrong to her. "The sooner our business is complete the sooner I can return to Commorragh to finalize our transactions" she said carefully observing Khalohin's face, the young slaver was hiding something, he was anxious it was not clear why but Khalohin definitely was uncomfortable.

"Forgive me, my lady" said the Salyinda. "I just don't get to spend much time with people from the Dark City and the ones who do come don't stay long and aren't hospitable" he bowed and gestured to lead Drakira back to Screamer's Peak. Drakira let her guard down slightly but she still felt something was not quite right.

* * *

The Patriarch sat in the study, he was far more relaxed with Drakira now discussing prices with him. The trueborn was no fool she knew how much her slaves were worth and how much they cost to keep she sat in the chair opposite him, her legs crossed and her fingers twirling the purple bangs of her hair with one hand the other stroking Skindread who sat by her seat. The old Salyinda looked at his goblet of wine and sipped it. "300,000, that's my price" the Patriarch said finally. Drakira's green eyes were fixed on the old man.

"Don't insult me, Salyinda. I know that their keep alone costs no more than 200,000" she hissed sternly

"So you can appreciate my wishing to make a profit, I have not just the slaves but an entire clan to feed" he said feigning innocence

"Why do you keep up this argument?" sighed Drakira. "We will not pay that much and you know this, all you do is delay my departure and delay our further business" she continued frustrated. The Patriarch's eyes changed he glanced around like he had seen a ghost then as suddenly as he changed he returned to his normal demeanour. He remained quiet looking at the trueborn pensively as she stroked the beast by her feet.

"You want the best price and I wish to make a profit" he finally said. Drakira smiled.

"So what would it take for you to lower your price" she asked

"Use of your slaves for start and a cut of their price"

"You may use the slaves but you won't receive any cut of their price" Drakira snarled. The Patriarch flinched subconsciously, it was clear she was offended by such a suggestion.

"My apologies if I have offended you, my lady. Shall we postpone this discussion until tomorrow, I will give me time to calculate the costs of housing and maintaining your slaves for you" he said standing up. Drakira nodded as she stood up.

"It seems like that'd be a good idea. We shall approach this tomorrow with a fresh head" she said. The Patriarch bowed to her as she and Skindread exited the study. The head of the Salyinda clan smiled to himself smugly.

The next day when Drakira was summoned to the study she was determined to get a decent price out of the Patriarch even if it meant ramming her splinter pistol in his face. Skindread had been anxious all day pacing back and forth, searching for something but finding nothing, Drakira could relate, she didn't like the colony anymore, sure it was beautiful, tranquil with a vast array of plants and wildlife but something didn't feel right. She couldn't put her finger on it, if she could she would've dealt with it by now, it was clear they were delaying but not clear why, the Salyinda Clan were a neutral organisation with no alliances or rivalries with the powers of Commorragh, save for Vect. It was a puzzle to her, Drakira opened the door to the study and stepped in, the Patriarch looked up from his desk and the work he was doing. "Ah, good you're here" he said standing. "Can I get you something to drink?" he asked

"No thank you, I'd just like to get down to business" said Drakira raising her hand and sat in same chair she had sat in the day before. The Patriarch poured himself his drink keeping an eye on the dark eldar trueborn. He sat down slowly and sipped his drink clearly analyzing Drakira's expression, he smiled at her.

"You certainly are tenacious in your pursuit of what you want" he said. Drakira was surprised at his response.

"I do not believe in dallying when it comes to the purpose of my visit to Cammyrouge-37" she replied

"Have you not enjoyed our hospitality?"

"I have, you have been most gracious hosts but I am not here on a pleasure visit, I unfortunately am burdened with purpose"

"Then I shall respect your wishes" the Patriarch said nodding slowly before raising his glass to his lips again. "I have worked on figures for your slaves keep and you have given us permission to use the slaves, correct?"

"Yes" said Drakira "and I haven't changed my mind about not giving you a cut of any price they sell for"

"You don't strike me as a woman who would change her mind so I've taken that into account" he said. "250,000"

"150,000" Drakira counter-offered. The Patriarch smiled, rethinking his haggling strategy.

"200,000"

"180,000"

"195,000 and that's my final offer" he snarled, a small smile moved across Drakira's face.

"Pleasure doing business with you" she said standing up and bowing. "Now if you'll excuse me I must gather me men and belongings so we can leave."

"You cannot leave tonight, we have the formalities of our business to finalize" said the Patriarch

"Nothing _has been _finalized the Archon sent me to get a price now I have one I must return." Drakira said defensively. The Patriarch paused for a moment then nodded.

"Very well, I cannot stop you leaving but would you at least stay for tonight's feast, to celebrate our business" said the Patriarch. Drakira considered this, if the Patriarch of the Salyinda Clan spoke out saying that she was impertinent not even spending one last night in their hospitality her families reputation and more importantly standing would be damaged, at best. Drakira cursed silently she couldn't risk offending them.

"As you wish" she finally said. "I and my men shall enjoy your hospitality for tonight and return to Commorragh tomorrow" she smiled

"You honour my clan" bowed the Patriarch

"I look forward to the celebration of hopefully the first of many business transactions between our families" she smiled returning the bow.

* * *

The celebration was a cause for much merriment among the Salyinda clan and the dinner was far grander than any Drakira had attended so far, there was much wine and song and perhaps Drakira even enjoyed herself in the company of her merry hosts who seemed to had spared no expense with their entertainment. Drakira had enjoyed much of the wine, though its taste far different from the wine of Commorragh it was no less strong and when Drakira returned to her room once she changed she climbed into bed and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

The early hours came and Drakira was awoken by Skindread's aggressive hissing, she was tired but could tell something was wrong, she could hear commotion outside her room. She instinctively grabbed her splinter pistol and Agoniser taking cover behind her bed. She made a very specific series of gestures with her fingers ending with pointing to her Kabalite armour. Skindread darted across the walls and ceiling to his mistress's armour and picking it up in his mouth he would drag it to her. As Drakira put on the segmented armour the door of her room opened she quickly aimed her pistol but recognised Syrabite Ayres, he was wounded and the commotion she had heard was gun fire. "My Lady, the Salyinda Clan have turned against us, they killed most of us in our sleep it was by chance I was awake when they came to assassinate us." he said. "Hurry, I must get you to safety, as long as you live our deaths will be avenged a thousand times"

"Don't talk such nonsense, come we shall slay all and the hunter will become the hunted" the trueborn said putting the last of her armour on, sheathing her melee weapons and tying her hair back. "Skindread, time to go" she said angrily. Ayres and Drakira headed down the halls, Skindread traversed the ceiling disappearing into shadows. The Salyinda clans warriors were cut down by the creatures bladed tail Ayres fired his splinter rifle at the enemy and Drakira darted forward shooting as she cart-wheeled and dodged the hail of splinters and beams of dark light, screams echoed from both her surviving warriors and the enemies. Ayres let out a volley of splinter shots catching one straight in the middle of the forehead before advancing. Another guard appeared with a shredder just as he was about to fire a bladed tail burst through his abdomen blood splattered and poured out like a macabre fountain as the guard's body was lifted off the ground, Drakira could see Skindread on the walls of the hall observing the impaled corpse that hung limp on his tail then with a flick of his tail the body tumbled across the room and Skindread came to his mistress. "The exit is this way" said Ayres, he was sweating profusely, clearly trying to fight the poison that was running through his body.

"We must go before they regroup" said Drakira she approached the injured Syrabite trying to inspect his wound, she would no doubt be able to tell the type of poison from the taste of his blood but as she reached for the wound Ayres shook his head.

"Don't bother, I will be food for She Who Thirsts soon" he said miserably. "If I'm able to get you out of here alive visit vengeance upon them for me" he said with pleading eyes

"They will pay dearly for these actions, the story's of the Salyinda's punishment will be a legendary torment even for those in Commorragh." Drakira said fire burning in her eyes. The Syrabite nodded and they continued to their exit. Speed was everything if they would survive, they were outnumbered that was for sure and Drakira did not relish the idea of her, Skindread and Ayres taking on a private army. Suddenly as they ran down the labyrinth of corridors towards the hall and the main exit a trapdoor opened underneath Ayres. The Syrabite fell into a vat of acid his screams reverberating through the halls as armour was stripped from skin, skin was stripped from muscle and muscle was stripped from bone. "Ceiba-ny-shak!" Drakira cursed as Ayres body became a pool of pink and red sludge. She turned to see guards approaching a fire-fight soon ensued Drakira shot at her attackers and Skindread ran towards them teeth and claws ready to shred his opponents. The trueborn was highly outnumbered and she knew that if she didn't get out soon she wouldn't get out at all.

Drakira drew her Agoniser and activated it she sped into the guards who weren't being mauled by Skindread, jumping over bodies shooting at everyone in sight, she felt her skin knitting itself as she shot the last of the guards in the head, his lifeless body providing a vault for her, more guards charged shooting shuriken pistols, splinter rifles and blasters. Before they could finish off her already damaged armour Drakira lashed her Agoniser at her attackers in a dance of pain and death, breaking their weapons and sending surges of agony through their body. Skindread was tearing apart another guard and spitting his acidic venom at approaching reinforcements Drakira kicked open the door to her freedom and called to her pet who immediately followed her. Heavy turrets fired at the two as they ran and snipers with Dark Lances almost hit them numerous times leaving a pattern of burn marks. Shouts came from the ramparts of Screamers Peak but the attacks and shots were unsuccessful; Drakira and Skindread had disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

The webway portal opened and the two travellers jumped through. Drakira was panting and trembling from her narrow escape from Cammyrouge-37 her armour was damaged from all the shots she'd taken and a few of her wounds were still bleeding. Skindread pounced out hissing angrily, his mistress had her eyes fixed on her path, back to the Spire of Stolen Shadows, back to report this treachery to her father. Drakira slew anyone or anything that got in her way but she was not prepared for what she saw when she entered the dark towering spire she had called home. Her eyes widened, not in horror, but surprise, bodies of members of the Kabal of Stolen Shadows littered the hallways, many of them had holes burnt straight through them, the stench of burnt flesh and rotting bodies and blood filled the place. Drakira guessed from the smell of the decay that they had been dead for a few days, no doubt only a day or so after she left. There were other corpses strewn about, casualties of the attackers, she kicked one over. She recognised the red and black armour with the sigil of a bleeding eye, the Kabal of Razor Tears. Drakira gritted her teeth, hate filling her, she suddenly looked up, her family, she had to find them, hopefully they'd escaped and gone into hiding but she needed to check. Skindread whimpered a sound that was unfamiliar to Drakira. "Come on, I must find the others" she said spitting on the corpse of her enemy.

Skindread scouted ahead, numerous traps had been placed in the body-strewn palace, Drakira had examined these it was not common for the Kabal of Razor Tears to leave traps, Drakira had to assume they were left by accomplices of theirs, it wasn't possible to identify them from a few traps though. Skindread screeched for his mistresses attention, Drakira approached him treading lightly and counting the corpses most where so mutilated it wasn't possible to recognise friend from foe. She turned her head and looked into what was once a study, she gasped at the sight before her seeing Hekarit lying on the desk, her body in such a horrific state of mutilation, she had been vivisectified, her baby cut out of her and nailed to the wall, her organs pulled out of her and her body sexually violated, defensive marks on her showed she was alive and conscious as this was done to her. Tears welled up in Drakira's eyes as she saw the male perfectly formed foetus, that would've been her brother nailed to the wall and the horror and sorrow in her step-mothers empty eyes she approached the body and closed Hekarit's eyes before kissing her forehead. "You and my brother will be avenged, Mother. Fen'danneryn will pay for this, the torments of She Who Thirst will seem like child's play in comparison to what I shall do to him" she said, she wondered if she would find anyone alive in the spire.

The stench of death hung heavy in the air and the amount of corpses became more and more numerous the further Drakira checked there was still no sign of her father, Drakira kept repeating in her mind that he had survived this onslaught and had somehow managed to escape. Skindread could sense her delusional mantra and became increasingly anxious and protective. Drakira finally reached her father's throne room and pushed open the door. The walls were covered in blood, bodies were strewn out everywhere, their organs hanging outside of their bodies, burns from dark light dotted the walls and the smell of decay was overwhelming, amidst the gore leaning against the throne Drakira recognised Archon Neroxis. She darted over to the body hoping it to be an impostor falling to her knees the trueborn let out a wail of despair, her cry sounding like a banshee as she saw her father's body draped on his throne, his grip still firm on his Huskblade, his body was so damaged it was hard to say how he had died. Drakira fell to pieces she started crying and felt her cold heart break. "Father" she sobbed hugging the corpse, her tears mixing with the congealed blood, Skindread whimpered and approached his mistress as she ran her fingers through her father's blood matted hair. She could hear footsteps but did not turn lost in the depths of her despair, she hugged her father's body, his blood staining her armour, she could hear Skindread growling and felt shots fired through her armour, the pain rang through her, she could hear whispers inside her head, a demonic voice calling to her tugging at her soul although she felt her body mending although her mind was already slipping into the dark, carrion abyss. The sounds of Skindread carving whoever was trying to finish off Drakira and gunfire was drowned out by the whispers.

**Come with us, you can have whatever you wish, you wish to see you family again? You shall be reunited. All of you will hold the secret of life eternal and everlasting youth. Doesn't that sound nice Drakira? No more pain and sorrow, you can be beautiful forever and be with your family again, most of all you can have your revenge, you want that don't you? Revenge? The ones who did this to your house to suffer at your hands, we can give you that, all you need to do is draw your Father's blade and bring it gently across your throat….**

"Let her go!" a shout smashed Drakira out of her trance. She looked at her hands realising she was holding her Father's dagger to her throat, The Thirst was starting to overpower her, she dropped the blade and found she could barely focus on anything, blood was pouring out of her wounds. She turned her head and saw Lady Malys approach her. "Oh child" she said to Drakira. "Do not lose yourself to The Thirst" she said examining Drakira's wounds.

"Why not?" said Drakira bleakly. "I have nothing left to live for" she cried. Malys's gauntleted hand sharply slapped Drakira's face. The trueborn felt a burning, prickling sensation from the impact.

"So you just wish to stay here? Let She Who Thirsts consume you, that is your answer, your Father would be ashamed of you" said Malys. Drakira's eye shot up and she picked up her Father's Huskblade and charged at Malys. The Archon parried Drakira with her own blade and kicked her to the ground. "Good, you still have fight in you"

"Yes…..I think I do" hissed Drakira her focus was returning she looked at her father's corpse and knelt by it. "My Father is dead, the Kabal of Stolen Shadows is destroyed I am the last of my line, I have nothing to live for but that also means I have nothing left to lose" she said. Drakira kissed her Father on the forehead and left the corpse. She looked at Malys. "So that begs the question, why are you here?" she snarled

"As I told you, I made a promise to your Mother, and I intend to keep it" Malys replied. Drakira approached the corpses of those who had been killed by Skindread and Malys.

"These are members of the Kabal of the Fiend Ascendant, why are they…." Drakira suddenly realised the betrayal that was played out before her and she couldn't believe it, the Kabal of the Fiend Ascendant would definitely use traps, perhaps Tarsidhe didn't know, no he had to know. She turned to Malys and the Archon simply nodded.

"Here, child I took this before Tarsidhe's men could destroy it" Malys said handing Drakira a necklace with a dark crystal hanging from it. "Listen to your Father" the Archon said. Drakira touched the crystal and a vision of Archon Neroxis in his last hours appeared.

"Drakira, my daughter, when you see this I will be dead, I know you will cry but do not give up. You are my daughter and you are the only one who can visit vengeance upon those who've wronged us, we've been under siege for days now, they've poisoned the water and we will have no food soon but if you are alive then I'll consider it a victory. Tarsidhe and Fen'danneryn have falsified evidence and convinced Vect we have harboured psykers and are traitors to Commorragh, our family and Kabal is now officially outlawed, there is a high bounty on your head my girl but if you are watching this than Lady Malys has kept her word to me" the image fluxed and Drakira could see Archon Neroxis crying. "Live on my daughter, live gloriously, as long as you stay alive they will not have succeeded in their treachery, I know you will never let the House of Tz'eianyx fall, you've always made me so proud, I love you, my girl" the image smiled and then disappeared. Drakira noticed tears rolling down her cheeks and she put the crystal necklace around her neck.

A Kabalite Warrior of the Poisoned Tongue ran into the throne room, a scout. Skindread hissed at her but silenced with a gesture from Drakira. "Lady Malys, word has spread of Lady Drakira's return, the Kabal of the Fiend Ascendant and the Kabal of Razor Tears are approaching, there are also a large number of bounty hunters"

"Hold them off" said Malys. "We have to get you out of here. Where is your webway portal?"

"In the armoury at the base of the spire" answered Drakira

"Then we'll have to fight our way out" said Malys. "Grab what you can and we'll go"


	4. The Ritual

Drakira swiftly took some extra splinter crystals and Archon Neroxis's Huskblade, it had been passed down through generations and she would not see it fall. Lady Malys and her forces were keeping their pursuers at bay but only just. Drakira was still crying as they advanced through the labyrinthine spire. Suddenly a loud explosion was heard from the floor below them. "Ceiba-ny-shak! They've gotten through, ready your weapon" snarled Malys. Drakira nodded and even though tears still rolled down her cheeks she mentally switched to her battle mode. The dark crystal around her neck seemed to also 'wake' it was a strange sensation like the gem was absorbing her hate, sorrow and pain.

Drakira and Malys burst into a grizzly scene; in the already corpse-strewn spire, bodies of warriors from the Kabal of the Poisoned tongue littered the floor, charred and withered from the explosion as wyches from the Cult of Woe entered. As soon as they saw the young trueborn a volley of shoots were fired razor flails smashed parts of the wall as Drakira dived with Malys for cover. Skindread hissed aggressively and traversed the walls and ceiling as his Mistress and her ally readied their weapons. Drakira emerged from cover to see Skindread spitting acid and slicing wyches with his tail. One wych through a shardnet over him, the beast squealed and shrieked in pain as the net tore into his carapaces, then acid splashed from the wound breaking the net and falling onto the wyches who screamed in agony as their flesh melted away and even their bones started to become part of the reddish-pink pool of sludge that marked where they once stood. Malys fired a few shots with her pistol, finishing off the wyches and gestured for Drakira to follow her just as another wave of wyches and bounty hunters entered.

Drakira tried to dodge the vast number of shots but although she managed to miss the most detrimental she was hit by some shots from a shuriken pistol a bounty hunter was using, her already damaged armour stood no chance against the circular razor discs and they slicked into her easily. Drakira shrieked as blood gushed out of the great open wound in her side. She tried to stop the bleeding as they ran but a long trail of blood ran behind her. A group of warriors from the Kabal of Razor Tears and the Kabal of the Fiend Ascendant were blocking the way to the armoury, Malys's warriors provided back-up for them while Malys tried to do simple field-repairs on Drakira. The trueborn's blood loss was severe she was feeling tired and her senses weren't as sharp. By the time Malys had bandaged her she was starting to drift off the Archon put a strap around Drakira's arm and tightened it. She felt Malys searching for a vein and then a quick sting.

Combat drugs coursed through Drakira's body as Malys and her warriors kept the hordes of enemy kabalite warriors. She could feel her blood starting to heat, it felt like it was on fire, her mind a small electrical storm despite her blood-loss Drakira's senses were sharper than ever and the burning in her blood was starting to drive her into a rabid frenzy, her entire body felt that if it didn't move it would combust, she twitched frantically, her body wanting to move to stop the burning. Drakira suddenly screamed and ran towards the enemy kabalite warriors shooting frantically at the swarm of enemies, she could hear Malys calling her but she ignored her, lost in the blood-frenzy. The young trueborn was a blur swarms of splinters shot her but she would not die hacking at her enemies with her family Huskblade, laughing hysterically and manically as she cut them. As quickly as it had come the blood-frenzy vanished, like a tidal-wave it was washed away along with all Drakira's excess energy, in its place a rush of pain from the vast amounts of shots she'd taken. Drakira pulled some splinters out of her skin, their toxins coursing through her veins, she wouldn't have much time. "Come Drakira, now's our chance" said Malys

"The armoury is this way" Drakira said gesturing. They were pursued by kabalites, wyches and bounty hunters, screams and dying gasps followed them as Malys's troops were struck down. Skindread slowed down the pursuers but not well enough. As Malys and Drakira entered the armoury they were gaining, Drakira's body barely responsive from the poison that was coursing through her she vomited as Malys opened the webway portal, her vision was blurry, her hearing muffled and her limbs were becoming heavy, she gibbered unaware of the delusional speech. Lady Malys pushed Drakira into the portal just as a hail of shots connected with her. Skindread chased after his Mistress jumping through the portal as Malys closed it. "Good luck, dear girl, I hope I fulfilled my promise to your Mother" she said as the portal closed and Drakira was left in the webway.

**Stop fighting, come to us, it would be so much easier if you came willingly**

Demonic voices called to Drakira as she floated within the dimensional labyrinth of the webway somewhere between life and death. She could feel Skindread nudging her, licking her trying to make her react but couldn't move, She Who Thirsts tugging at her soul, drifting in and out of consciousness as demonic voices whispered and laughed trying to make her stop hanging onto her life. The whispers in Drakira's mind were draining, time was meaningless now, she could've laid there floating in the abyss with Skindread for a few seconds or it could've been a century. A trickle of blood came out of her mouth as she stared up into the endless nothingness, with the demons still playing in her mind, tugging at her soul. Unsure what was real and what was delusion, Drakira lay in between life and death, tears welled up in her eyes as she knew she was dieing. Skindread protected his Mistress from the vile creatures that seeped in from different realities hoping to feed on Drakira's corpse. The beast could see her life draining from her and let out a loud mournful wail that shook the whole webway and lay next to her resting his head on her abdomen, half guarding and half comforting. A shape came into Drakira's blurred vision like a comedy mask with a pinkish-grey motley suit, Skindread growled threateningly but did not attack the figure. The figure tilted its face to and fro, the smiling mouth moved speaking but Drakira could hardly make out any words. The figure reached into his suit and brought out a bright crystal amulet of all possible colours that danced and twirled in the spectrum as it got brighter and brighter until Drakira could see nothing but white light.

"She is wounded and you set her to face our patron?" there were three discernable voices within the light.

"She is from Commorragh, I have no doubt she will prove herself in the ritual"

"Arebennian, you know that this is not how you are supposed to recruit"

"I know my role, fate led me to this girl. If our patron will accept her she will heal, if not then we shall have no further use for her corpse"

"What of the abomination?"

"It is caged for now, but it paces restlessly"

"The poor thing worries for it's Mistress, should she return from the ritual it will be glad to see her"

"_IF_ she returns, what can you see within her, Shadowseer?"

**Don't struggle, I mean you no harm. Relax, do not fight me, you don't need to fight anymore…..**

"She is one of great tragedy, she has many scars on her body and even more on her heart"

**Rest child, you are safe here, sleep and rest yourself…..**

The voices became more and more muffled and the bright light turned to blackness, a dark carrion abyss that swirled and shimmered in a hypnotic dance in Drakira's mind she could not help but relax, tired from the wounds and sorrow she bared.

* * *

Drakira opened her eyes, she was standing on a crystal path that led up to what looked like the Spire of Stolen Shadows only formed of glass and crystal. The spire was the only thing in the strange realm glittering amongst swirling mists of blue and white that danced like this plain of existence existed solely in the centre of a vortex. Drakira carefully walked up the crystalline pathway, the heels of her boots chiming as she approached the ghost of her home. She caught her reflection in the mirrored doors; she wore a black sleeveless dress that glittered like the night sky with graceful black veils attached to her wrists, sparkling jewellery of diamonds and obsidian graced her alabaster skin and a crown with obsidian blades jutting out like a crown forged by a lunatic, a fountain of black veils with sparkling diamonds hung from the crown providing Drakira with a long train that trailed behind her, she remembered this dress, it was her favourite, she smiled at the memory and pushed open the doors. Inside was the ball room of her Father's palace though far lighter, a dreamlike myriad of glass, crystal and colours. Ghostly figures danced all wearing extravagant clothes and smiling comedy masks. They all seemed oblivious to Drakira lost in their masquerade. She walked up the stairs but froze when she saw herself face to face with her father. Archon Neroxis wore extravagant clothes like the rest of the guests who continued to dance and a mask shaped as a horned skull he removed it as Drakira approached. Drakira's stomach knotted as she saw her Father's face, she could feel tears well up in her eyes, it was just as if he never died. "My dearest, you've come of age and it is customary for me to have one last dance before my child becomes a woman" he said. Drakira instinctively held out her arms to hug him and dance but something kept her back.

"M-my Father is dead" she said.

"Dead?" laughed Neroxis. "I have come close many times my precious girl but none have succeeded yet. Come our guests are waiting" he held out his hand but Drakira did not take it

"No, I held my Father's cold corpse in my arms, I don't know what you are but you are _not_ my Father"

"Foolish girl, I look like him, sound like him, have the same memories, can you not be happy to enjoy yourself with me here?"

"You wish me to live a lie, to tempt me with a delusion, that I cannot do, if you truly had my Father's memories you would know he taught me that truth is absolute and in a society where politics are played through lies and intrigue it is imperative to be aware of truth" Drakira said firmly.

"Look my daughter" said the Archon gesturing at the waltzing figures. "You remember the fun you had dancing the night away. I am offering you the chance to live in your happiest moments with the ones you love" he continued. Drakira was tempted by the offer, more than tempted, a release from the pain she felt was what she desired, but desire was a weakness that had cost her entire race their souls.

"If I give in to temptation then I am no better than the demons, I will not accept and I will not listen to your lies, fiend" she said hardening her heart.

"Fine it seems only war and death will satisfy you, then have your war and death, wallow in your sorrow and pain" the Archon said and turned into a miasma of black smoke. In an instant the dancers all screamed, a cacophony of abnormal, piercing screams that turned Drakira's blood to ice. Their masks had changed from smiles to screams and they all held large curved blades. Drakira was unarmed and as the horde of screaming dancers charged at her she found herself instinctively ducking and dodging. Drakira kicked her long leg out from her low pose sending some of the dancers falling into each other she immediately ran across the bodies, snapping the neck of one with her foot and taking its blades, now armed but heavily outnumbered the young trueborn smiled as the horde again descended on her. Drakira became a whirlwind of blades slashing, hacking, kicking and spinning each of the dancers that she slew turned black and shrivelled up. The dancers were not mindless, they mirrored Drakira's attacks and parried, creating a harder challenge but the trueborn did not make it easy retreating occasionally to give herself time to think. Finally a test worthy of her mettle, the flurry of blades from her attackers challenged her agility and speed, she back-flipped from their attack then charged hacking her enemies, slitting their throats and gutting their bodies, her attacks looking more like a dance than any martial skill. As she thought on more and more attackers rose up as if emerging from the room itself. Drakira was now tested in all her areas of battle, skill, speed, strength and agility the last of her attackers turned black the doors at the end of the room opened. Drakira looked at the blades she had picked up and they crumbled to ash like the bodies that once danced in the room.

Drakira walked into a crystal labyrinth, towering walls and glistening floors surrounded her as she walked through the ever changing twists and turns. Drakira noticed that every turn she made, every path she walked down changed the labyrinth, it moved with her. Impossible to navigate she stopped and examined her surroundings, the more she examined, the more it changed, the more it changed, the more she examined. The labyrinth frustrated and enraged Drakira, lost in this ever changing maze she looked about her and then it dawned on her: whenever she thought about the labyrinth or got frustrated with it, that was when it changed. Drakira laughed hysterically at this epiphany, the entire thing was a test of will and instinct, a joke to madden those who would not acknowledge their most primal of gifts. Drakira's laughter echoed through the labyrinth and for a moment she thought she could hear someone laughing back at her. Drakira shuddered at the new knowledge that she was not alone in this strange realm and started to make her way through, her mind clear and only following her instincts. In the centre of the labyrinth a lone door stood, it looked like it lead to nowhere as Drakira approached it she heard a voice. "Have fun with the halls of illusions?" it said and the ghostly figure of Ayres appeared from behind the stand-alone door. "Why didn't you save me? Do you regret leaving me behind, even after I saved you?" the ghost of the Syrabite asked

"I don't regret what could not have been changed, it serves no purpose" replied Drakira. Ayres's ghost smiled and disappeared the door opening and leading into a long dark corridor.

The corridor was a hall of mirrors each showing an alternate fate for Drakira if she had done something different and each one shattering as she ignored the images. The sound of hundreds of music boxes playing gave the room a menacing feel yet Drakira felt at home in the darkness with the haunting music surrounding her. A shadowy figure moved to and fro in the shadow at the end of the corridor. Drakira approached cautiously, the figure wore a jesters outfit which permanently changed its colours and patterns his face covered in a mask that changed with his will. Drakira could hear him laughing it was the same laughter that had echoed when she was in the labyrinth. "Well, well, well not many find their way through my labyrinth and also find it enjoyable" the figure said mockingly. "You are far darker than many of my other followers. Your skill in battle is very impressive but do you have any wit?"

"You wish to challenge me to a game of wits?" Drakira smiled. "Why not? Sounds fun" she shrugged

"Ah, an eager participant, good" the entity in the jesters outfit laughed. "It shall be a game of riddles played until one of us loses. I shall go first: What herb heals all wounds but will end with death?" the entity asked. Drakira thought for a minuet and smiled

"Thyme" she said

"Correct" said the entity gesturing to her to present her riddle

"The more you have of me the less you see, what am I?" asked Drakira

"Darkness" said the entity

"Correct" she said

"I have cities with no people, coasts with no sand, oceans without water, mountains without land, what am I?"

"A map"

"Correct"

"What runs but never walks, murmurs but never talks, has a bed but never sleeps and has a mouth but never eats?"

"A river"

"Correct" the riddles went back and forth between Drakira and the entity. Every so often the entity would pause pensively, Drakira could not tell whether it was concentrating on the riddle or pondering her. The hours flew by like minuets the trueborn was running out of riddles and knew that soon she would have to give up. This prospect worried her for the entity had not told her what would happen if she surrendered.

"I never was, am always to be, no one ever sees me or ever will, what am I?"

"Urmm…." Drakira thought carefully. "The future?"

"Correct" the entity leaned forward. "Your turn my dear" it said

"What begins but has no end? What is the ending of all that begins?" asked Drakira, the entity tilted its head in thought and drummed it's fingers thinking. After a while the entity gestured to Drakira.

"What is the answer?" he asked.

"Death" said Drakira darkly. The entity laughed, it's laughter shaking the room.

"Well played, you have beaten me at my game" the entity said trying to control his laughter. "I like you though, you have a certain darkness and tenacity that I have not seen for many millennia, you would be wasted as a normal agent but then again it would not hurt you to learn from your peers and find your role on the stage" the entity said. "So what say you? You must come willingly, if you serve me your soul will no longer belong to She Who Thirsts"

"What exactly would serving you entail?" asked Drakira. The entity laughed hysterically, his laughter echoing around the room like the very walls were laughing at the young trueborn.

"You will be a Harlequin" he laughed. "Do you accept?"

"Very well" said Drakira. The entity clicked his fingers and the floor Drakira stood on shattered and she found herself falling into an eternity of maddening darkness.

* * *

Fen'danneryn paced back and forth his black hair with a bleached streaks stained with blood swishing as he marched. Tarsidhe came into the room and closed the door. "We can't find her anywhere, there's no trace of her within the Webway. Perhaps one of the creatures from the other realms came and finished her off" he said indifferently

"There should still be some blood, body-parts, a wounded Commorrite with a grudge to settle does not just disappear, if she comes back than we might as well give ourselves over to She Who Thirsts"

"You really think Drakira could survive?" asked Tarsidhe hiding the worry in his voice

"Only she _could_ survive" Fen'danneryn said bitterly, his voice seething with resentment and envy.

"You should not worry, even if she did make it back the Scourges would kill her on sight she is outlawed now and besides we have Archon Neroxis's power and influence now, who'd believe her word over ours?"

"Lady Malys for one, you forget Tarsidhe that Neroxis was a powerful Archon, he had many allies"

"And inevitably many enemies, T'myle has already turned many of the wych cults against them, only the Cult of Strife stands firm in their loyalty and there are rumours that the Succubi are trying to convince Lelith Hesperax to renounce her loyalty." Tarsidhe smiled. "It doesn't matter anyway, Drakira is dead if not from her wounds than by the creatures of the webway.


	5. Begining Training

Drakira's eyes shot open and she let out a scream of agony, her entire body was wracked with a pain she had never felt before but the worst of it was within her mind. Like millions of razor blades were cutting into her brain she turned over and vomited into a basin next to the bed she lay in. The trauma of her physical and emotional wounds and the psychological trials she'd endured in her sleep left her weak, barely able to move with the exception of when the pain was too much to bare and she would vomit again. Eventually her body gave up and she fell to sleep, a strange sleep filled with horrifying nightmares that disturbed even her dark eldar mind. When her eyes next open she saw someone coming into the white room. A lithe male in a motley suit of pinkish-grey, he had a Mohawk of brown hair with gems in, Drakira recognised him this was the man she had seen while she was dieing in the webway. Though what she had assumed in her delusional state was a comedy mask was actually only half a mask covering the upper half of the figures face adorned with black spirals, his natural smile was un-naturally full and sinister. He brought with him something on a chain, Drakira tried to speak as he brought Skindread into the room but her body was too weak.

The creature licked his Mistress enthusiastically and lay on the bed beside her, his zoanthrope-like head ever alert and watching as he guarded her. The other figure approached Drakira and put his hand on her head, it was unnaturally cold. "You survived the ritual, that is good. You know what is to become of you?" he said

"I am…..to be…a harlequin" Drakira replied weakly. The figure nodded.

"I am Jester, a Harlequin Solitaire. You are safe here but your wounds are indeed grievous, you will need to recover before we can begin your training" he said. Drakira only sighed in reply and she felt the lure of sleep pulling her along. Jester sensed this and headed out shutting the door behind him, leaving Skindread to guard his Mistress as she rested and healed.

It was weeks before Drakira was well enough to even sit up let alone speak properly. She suffered the most dreadful nightmares, monstrous dreams so realistic she could feel the pain, nightmares horrifying enough to disturb one of her raising, then she would be treated to the most beautiful, euphoric dreams that let her escape the cold, emptiness of the white room she was cooped up in. She still did not know where she was but Harlequin's would come into the clean, white room everyday with water and food but they did not speak to her. Skindread kept his Mistress company and amused her occasionally by jumping onto the walls or ceiling. Jester would disappear for times occasionally returning to check on her progress.

"I have noticed something that disturbs me, Jester" Drakira said sipping a glass of water on one such visit.

"Tell me and I shall do my best to explain" the Solitaire replied

"The Thirst, the insatiable pull at my soul by She Who Thirsts, I…." she paused pondering her next words. "I don't feel it anymore"

"That's because as a Harlequin She Who Thirsts doesn't have a claim on your soul. The Laughing God, our patron protects us from Her in return for our services…..at least those who do not have such a vile role as myself, but that is irrelevant". It was at this that Drakira realised Jester's name was ironic, a joke that betrayed his sardonic and surely nature.

"Will you not tell me where we are now? There will be others hunting me"

"We are safe in one of the forgotten places of the Webway. You need not fear your hunters, all you need do is heal your wounds"

"I do not fear my hunters, they should fear me" snarled Drakira at the insolence of the Solitaire.

"Careful young one, hate, pride and vengeance are things I know well, take care not to cling to them, to hold them so close that they poison your soul." Jester said darkly.

* * *

It was months before Drakira's wounds had healed and Jester wasted no time in showing her what she needed to learn. He escorted her out of the white room and into the rest of her surroundings, Skindread eagerly following. Drakira observed, they were clearly on some form of Craftworld but unlike the ones her distant kin used. The writing and architecture was ancient and so archaic it must have been built before the fall, perhaps even by something non-eldar. Jester led Drakira to a library its tall walls filled with books, tomes and scrolls. "You will need to study these tomes, learn them and learn the parts, these are the roles you will play as a Harlequin" said Jester handing her a book

"Oh…alright" said Drakira not hiding her disappointment

"When I am satisfied you have learnt enough of the tales of yore, you will come with me for something more practical" Jester said sternly as if he were talking to a small, whining child. Drakira did not argue, in truth she was curious, she knew little of the tales of the gods and the history of her race, of course she knew of The Fall but her people despised their gods for allowing She Who Thirsts to kill them, instead following the teachings of the Dark Muses, dark eldar who had become so infamous that they became characters of myth and legend. As a child she was not told the tales of gods and their deeds but of slave raids, piracy, the revels of torture and battles her Father had fought in across the galaxy. The thought suddenly made her feel homesick she clutched the dark crystal hanging around her neck that had contained her Father's dying message to her. She could feel the dark crystal storing her hate and pain, she was not entirely sure what it was but the strange crystal was the last thing her Father had left her and she would no more part with it then she would her own head. Everything of hers was gone, her family, her kabal, her home and the idea that her Father probably sent her to Cammyrouge-37 to save her was the hardest part, it would mean he suspected but did not tell her. Of course had Drakira known she probably would've charged off to tear Fen-Danneryn a new one and gotten herself killed, she understood her Father's reasoning but her heart still did not agree with it, she smiled to herself, she really was a strange Trueborn.

Drakira studied her tomes learning all the tales and the roles of each character, she could imagine them so vividly it was like she was watching the tales instead of reading them. Drakira stayed entranced by her tomes at the end of each one she would return it to its place on the shelf and read another. So many plays, dances and operas, each of which she enjoyed and when the library was empty of other Harlequins she would improvise them acting, singing and dancing. Eventually Jester returned and was surprised that Drakira had excelled in her studies of the old tales. He gave her one more task, to make her Harlequin uniform. She salvaged what little she could of her kabalite armour and set to work. Drakira worked in pure darkness sewing and detailing, every so often she would take a break and sit staring into darkness gently stroking Skindread and rocking back and forth. When she finally finished and emerged from the darkness, it was like she had been reborn.

Drakira wore a purple skirt that was long and flowing at the back but short and slim in the front with elegant embellishments around the trim in gold thread. She wore a black underbust corset with gold baroque flourishes around the edges and a large purple gem in the centre, a pair of vambraces and a choker that the dark crystal was embedded into matching the design completed the set. The sections of Drakira's tights and top alternated between black material with a satin like sheen and purple and black diamonds with gold stitching on her left shoulder was a spiked and bladed pauldron that she had salvaged from her kabalite armour and her hair was tied back with a barbed tie. Black knee high boots and a white mask with black baroque flourishes covered the upper half of her face. "Very nice" said Jester. "But costume is only part of your performance today collect your weapons and we shall go" said the Solitaire. A sly smile crossed Drakira's face after being cooped up inside for so long she was more than happy to go anywhere.

* * *

The Webway portal opened onto a dry, drab world, a world that had been set aflame, the remnants of scorched plants littered the horizon, ruins crumbled like the skeletons of their long dead occupants. Small abandoned shanty towns were dotted about a foul stench hovered in the air Drakira wrinkled her nose in disgust. "orks" she sneered. Jester had already started advancing to some unknown location. Drakira gestured to Skindread to follow her. They slowly and silently approached the edge of a camp, Drakira could smell the orks stench from miles away though. They watched the crude unruly green skins bully each other into line Jester was watching them like a hawk.

"Kill them" he said coldly. Drakira looked at her targets, it was a fairly large camp at least 200 greenskins versus her alone. "Are you nervous?" asked Jester watching Drakira analyse her targets.

"No but the odds are not in my favour" she replied

"They never are" Jester replied coldly. "I will be here and if I think you need help I will lend you aid but Skindread must stay here" he said, Skindread let out a low threatening growl at these words

"That's fine" said Drakira seemingly surprising Jester. She agilely descended the slopes trying to not make to much noise and sticking to the shadows, thankfully she knew orks were stupid and disorganised, things she could use to her advantage. She watched them and from the shadows she drew her splinter pistol firing on them. The poisoned shards bit through the ork's skin and buried themselves in their bodies liquefying and spreading the poison through their bodies. She fired a few more times from her hiding spot taking down the biggest of the orks before her cover was realised. A flood of the green skins charged forward snarling and firing their crude weapons many accidentally shooting their comrades or perhaps simply killing them to get them out the way. Drakira was far faster then them and ended up skipping while shooting her splinter pistol with one hand and gesturing to follow her with the other mocking her attackers in the playful way she taunted them.

The greenskins where not pleased by Drakira's slights and they had become more frenzied. Drakira drew her agoniser in case any made it too close for comfort. The whip-like weapon flashed with power and she continued to fire only stopping to change the ammunition crystal. As they approached their numbers diminished finally succumbing to Drakira's poisons. The surviving numbers were far easier to manage they tried to surround the trueborn but she had other plans spinning into a pirouette her agoniser struck out stunning and paralyzing those who were closing in, she ducked and dived twisting her body so she attacked from the rear. As the powerful whip bit down on its new victim the surge of power running through its body caused it's eyes to pop out of its skull and streams of blood to seep out. Drakira repeated this dance of death again and again laughing as the greenskins squealed in agony and pain. Eventually all were dead but Drakira was suspicious, there was no warboss she had never seen any ork forces without one but before she could investigate the camp she saw Jester and Skindread approaching her.

"You handled that very easily, if I didn't know better I'd say you enjoyed it. Perhaps I needn't have slain their leader" Jester smiled

"You did what?" asked Drakira

"Well my dear you have been ill for the past 6 months, I didn't want to give you anything too strenuous" the Solitaire shrugged. Drakira's face went red with fury, did he think her so weak that she couldn't beat a camp of orks? "Oh now don't look at me like that. I know now that you can handle them so I'll remember not to interfere next time"

"Good at least we have that clear" Drakira spun on her heel glaring at her mentor.

"Perhaps you would like something more challenging?" said Jester

"What gave it away?" said Drakira sarcastically

"Sarcasm is beneath you, my dear don't use too much of your talent on it" Jester said merrily although his comment left Drakira confused.


	6. Joining the Troupe

The Norn-Queen stirred in the centre of the Hive Ship feeding on the genetic material and spawning her never-ending brood of monsters. Eggs, larvae and incubator sacs littered the foul smelling nest. Her children spoke to her through the Hive Mind and this soothed her. **Mother, there is something here, food for your children **she could hear the Hive Mind speaking. **Mother, this food is not easy prey, need siblings**. This was the first of thousands of calls from the Hive Mind, a constant barrage of spawning commands and shrieks of dying pain as many of her children were cut down like wheat to a scythe. **Many children dying, Mother, help us**

The vile innards of the Genestealers poured out of their bodies as Drakira carved them apart with her Father's huskblade. The rush of battle was a heady brew and the tang of fresh blood added to her intoxication, though she didn't need to inflict pain to renew her soul anymore it didn't make it any less enjoyable. Jester fought alongside her but only to keep the Tyranids off himself than to help Drakira. Skindread was in his element spitting acid at the beast and tearing them apart with tooth and claw. More of the beasts emerged from the fleshy walls of the bio-ship, no doubt at the order of their Matriarch. This was indeed a testing battle, the Tyrnaid warriors charged forth their razor like appendages ready to hack apart Drakira, the young Trueborn flipped out of the way and parried with a volley of shots from her splinter pistol. The first warrior fell but the second moved out of the way so the poisoned needles hit its sibling. Skindread pounced onto the second Tyranid warrior as Drakira dealt with the new wave of horrifying creatures that approached the sheer numbers made up for their lack of strength. A piece of the Tyranid warriors head carapace was torn off by Skindread's powerful jaws and the creature lay dying, acidic venom eating at its brain Skindread traversed the ceiling of the hive ship trying to help his Mistress. Drakira was a little whirlwind of shots, counter-attacks and burning blade strokes her husk blade destroying anything it bit into, drying out their bodies and turning them to dust or simply chopping them to pieces. Her agoniser would spin out crippling or killing her attackers while they were still at a fair distance, the gore soaked paths to the centre of the hive-ship were now slick with blood and entrails but the Tyranids kept coming and Drakira continued to lay waste to them.

Jester observed her fighting style, analysing it: Drakira struck without mercy, revelling in the pain she caused, she was more than skilled she made killing look like an art form, every strike of her agoniser left a beautiful pattern or a flower-like burn were it struck. What fascinated him about his charge was she seemed to know where her attackers would try and strike, no matter what their species, he wondered to himself if this was simply how she was brought up to fight on Commorragh or whether she had some innate psychic ability that she was unaware of. It was not unheard of for psykers to exist but it was extremely rare for them to survive, psykers were frowned upon in Commorragh as it was easier for the Chaos deities to find them. In fact Jester had remembered that it was the one rule that the Dark Eldar had. The fact Drakira was alive showed that if she did have any psychic ability she kept it well hidden, Jester concluded that due to her upbringing she was extremely atone to body-language. It did raise the question for Jester though, why did the Laughing God want her? She was not the first from Commorragh to join the ranks of the Harlequins but the others from the Dark City would usually lose their love of carnage without She Who Thirsts tugging at their souls.

As the small party advanced into the belly of the beast the fleshy walls and carrion floors providing good camouflage for the creatures that hid within, Skindread had a good sense of the beasts and would alert the party with his hissing. This time Skindread's warnings were accompanied by him skittering to find a vantage point, Drakira could tell something deadly was approaching, something horrible to protect the queen of this hive. For the first time in her life she felt trepidation, she could feel the dark crystal in its ornate clasp stirring as if waking from some deep sleep. Suddenly a shadow became the hulking form of a Hive Tyrant. The huge monstrous abomination towered over Drakira it shrieked at the young Trueborn slashing its great mantis-like limbs Drakira easily dodged the attacks lashing out her agoniser in riposte. The Hive Tyrant screamed in pain and lunged at the Trueborn. Skindread spat acid at the creature which fired its venom cannon barely missing its attacker, while occupied with Skindread Drakira ran at the Hive Tyrant using the slick, fleshy floors to slide underneath the foul creature she unsheathed the Huskblade and sliced into the Hive Tyrant's belly, cutting through carapaces and chitin as she slid. The creature let out a loud shriek of pain as entrails and sinew fell out of the wound. It grabbed Drakira from underneath it squeezing her as she tried to free herself. Drakira could feel her organs being crushed but that wasn't what worried her, the Hive Tyrant opened its gapping maw revealing rows and rows of razor sharp teeth. All Drakira could think of was getting out of the creatures grasp, her mind solely focused on her survival the dark crystal started glowing and suddenly the Hive Tyrant dropped Drakira and started screaming in pain and agony. It started clawing at its head screaming again and again, clasping onto its skull the Hive Tyrant's skull exploded, brain matter expelled onto the walls of the hive ship and the huge body falling to the ground dead. Drakira sat for a moment in shock trying to work out what had happened and felt the dark crystal embedded in her choker she was shaken but got to her feet. Skindread circled his Mistress and screeched to hurry up. The foul smell of Tyranid secretions was almost over-powering and the small party knew they were close to the queen.

Finally they reached the centre, the Norn-Queen stirred looking down at those who had entered her nest. She was huge, immobile from being fixed into an ovipositor, mucus seeping out as she birthed more of her monstrous children who immediately got up and attacked. As each was slain by gun or by blade the queen screamed half in sorrow half in anger. Jester darted over to the huge creature and set something metal down and activated it as Drakira thought off more of the Norn-Queen's children, each one harder to kill then the other. Skindread pounced on the Queen's head trying to tear it open to inject his venom but the Norn-Queen's carapaces and crests were harder than most. Skindread bites and scratches hurt the beast though she shook her head trying to get him off and wailed in agony at his attacks. Drakira was becoming tired and overwhelmed with the number of Tyranids swarming around her. "No pressure, Jester" she said sarcastically

"I'm almost done just a couple of seconds," the Solitaire said suddenly the little device lit up and the Solitaire opened a portal into the Webway. "Time to go!" he called climbing through, Drakira stopped fighting and entered the portal. Skindread immediately pounced through it. As Jester closed the portal they heard an explosion and the screams of thousands of Tyranids, along with their Mother.

* * *

The small party made their way through the Webway. Drakira was sore from all the fighting but proud of herself, she didn't know anyone else who had destroyed a Tyranid hive-ship. "You did well today," said Jester. "More than that, you hardly needed me there"

"I was just trying to stay alive," Drakira said coldly. Jester laughed and shook his head.

"No you weren't, if you were solely trying to stay alive you would've run and left me to rot. You were just doing what you came to do," he replied. "That's why you're ready to join a troupe."

"Really? What role will I play?"

"From what I've watched of your movements you'd be best suited to a dancer perhaps with experience you may be able to become a mime but you will need to temper that anger of yours," the Solitaire said dully as he opened another portal into the archaic Craftworld.

Jester disappeared as usual the next day but Drakira kept herself amused by practicing her sword play and reading the tomes in the library. Sometimes she simply sat in the white room, she switched the lights off and would sit in perpetual darkness, staring into nothing and meditating on her hatred and pain. When Jester finally returned he seemed eager to be rid of Drakira. "A troupe have need of a dancer to perform in the choruses. You will do your best to impress them" he said sternly.

"What do you mean? Surely if they need a dancer they'll take me as is" questioned Drakira

"I'm not the only Solitaire, there are many others who have recruits, many are called, though few survive. Don't think that they'll take you no questions asked. Especially since your dragging along that thing," he said gesturing to Skindread who growled in reply.

* * *

The troupe sat in an artificial garden. The Avatar wore a long scarlet coat with gold embroidery to indicate his rank his uniform was white alternating with red and gold diamonds, his mask was gilded and his platinum blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail. The Shadowseer was a slender woman whose face was hidden by a reflective helmet that shone like quicksilver and a cream hood with diamond patterns of a darker hue covered her head, her garments were white alternating with pink and pale blue. The Mime was a strange looking character his face hidden by a mask that morphed at will to suit his mood, he wore dark green and blue checks alongside black garments, half of his straight hair was bleached white while the other half kept its natural ebony. Finally there was the Death Jester, a character who stood apart from the rest, his skull mask and bone styled uniform set him apart from the others, his long black coat embroidered with symbols of death. "Do stop pacing Endaryn, I'm sure whoever Jester has found will be more than suitable" said the Shadowseer gently with her calm, soothing voice.

"I cannot help it, Chandra. I am the leader of this group therefore I am responsible. Jester's description of this one makes me anxious," replied Endaryn, the Avatar.

"Perhaps Khalix, has something that he could slip you to calm your nerves," said the Death Jester with dark humour. The Mime, Khalix turned at his name and his mask turned to a face of anger.

"Since when did you become Mr Sensitive?" the Death Jester teased

"That's enough Anaerin" said Endaryn. The Avatar sighed and looked over at Anaerin, the Death Jester returned to his seat.

**Calm yourself, dear. We are all nervous but you and I both know that Jester is not one to boast**.

Endaryn heard Chandra's voice in his head.

**I know but what he said worries me**

replied the Avatar

**About her love of pain and darkness? Our patron would not have chosen one that is a danger to our cause, he would've let her die, have faith in our guide.**

The door opened and Jester walked in with Drakira and Skindread. "I present Drakira Tz'eianyx" said Jester bowing. At the mention of Drakira's family name Khalix, the Mime suddenly became alert and looked straight at Drakira. Drakira bowed to them but was not sure what she had to do, Jester had not told her. The Shadowseer, Chandra stepped forward.

"Where are you from, young one?" she asked gently, Drakira opened her mouth to speak but was interceded by Khalix.

"She is of Commorragh" said the Mime darkly. "Tz'eianyx is one of the houses of High Commorragh, it is a very old name, a very hated name," he said

"Your companion speaks the truth, my lady, I am of High Commorragh," said Drakira swallowing her venom and the urge to kill the Mime for insulting her family name. "I am the last of my line, the House of Tz'eianyx fell to betrayal"

"A tragedy played out many times before," said Chandra sympathetically.

**What do you think, Khalix?**

the Shadowseer said psychically

**She holds a lot of hatred in her heart, the House of Tz'eianyx was full of traitors but they were always loyal to their allies **

The Mime struggled to reply as Dark Eldar had dulled their psychic abilities to avoid the gaze of She Who Thirsts

"Where did you hone your skills in battle?" asked Endaryn

"I originally trained in the gladiatorial arenas of the Cult of Strife in close combat and my late father, Archon Neroxis trained me in marksmanship. Most of my skills hail from sparring with my kabal, running the gauntlet, fighting in the gladiatorial arenas and the real space raids I embarked on"

"Do you ever regret the lives you've taken?" the Avatar asked

"Does the wolf regret killing the stag? I do what I must in order to survive, no more, no less" Drakira replied coldly

"A harsh but honest answer," said the Avatar

"Are you going to have a problem with Lady Chandra? She is a psyker," asked Khalix. Drakira looked at Chandra and had to fight the urge to back away.

"Keep her out of my mind and we'll be fine," the young Trueborn said trying to hide her disdain. The troupe looked at each other.

"Is that thing going to be coming with you," asked Anaerin pointing at Skindread. The creature growled at the Death Jester but quietened at a gesture from his Mistress.

"Skindread is more than capable of earning his keep, trust me," smiled Drakira

"Jester please take Drakira from the room while we discuss matters," said Endaryn. Jester bowed and escorted the young Trueborn out. The troupe had been talking amongst themselves for a while Drakira had lost interest in time and resorted to playing tug of war with Skindread, Jester however was not so indifferent. Eventually Jester left Drakira returning into the room with the troupe. When he emerged his smile had returned and Drakira immediately knew that she'd been accepted into the troupe.

* * *

The troupe made no delay in moving on with their new member. Drakira was glad to be rid of the white room and the archaic Craftworld. She knew that at some point they'd return their as it was an outpost that provided trade, supplies and hospitality for the Harlequins. Drakira had almost forgotten the alarming experience she had with the dark crystal, the prospect of adventure was far more exciting. The troupe members had made her feel welcome already in particular Khalix who also hailed from Commorragh though he was not of High Commorragh and said no more. "We will make our way to Iyanden, it has been too long since we have seen its folk" said Endaryn. Drakira felt a tug of excitement, she'd heard the tales of Iyanden, it was the casualty of a number of vicious attacks that wiped out most of its inhabitants but what made it known amongst her people was the use of angst-ridden necromancy. The spirits of their dead that protected them in wraith-constructs. Drakira laughed to herself, the mere thought was amusing to her.

They rested on a small forested planet. Anaerin sat next to Drakira and Khalix as Chandra sent out a psychic message to Iyanden. Skindread had been sent off to hunt for the troupe. "What instruments do you play, Drakira?" asked Endaryn, ever thinking about the performance of the troupe.

"I learned the lich fiddle and the banshee harp," answered Drakira. The Avatar looked to the Mime for clarification.

"The lich fiddle is a violin made of petrified bone and the banshee harp is a small high pitched harp, both are considered regal instruments of Commorragh" said Khalix, the Mime looked at Drakira. "Your father must've wanted you to marry well". Drakira didn't reply but stroked the dark crystal in her choker, the last vision of her father playing over and over again in her memory, she remembered his last words perfectly: _'L__ive on my daughter, live gloriously, as long as you stay alive they will not have succeeded in their treachery, I know you will never let the House of Tz'eianyx fall, you've always made me so proud, I love you, my girl'_ again and again she heard his last wish, Drakira felt tears form in her eyes but choked them back.

"Drakira? Are you well?" asked Anaerin the Death Jester. The young Trueborn nodded.

"I am I just miss my father, that is all" she said as Chandra returned to the small camp.

"Ah, of course, such grief must be a terrible burden to bear" said Endaryn. The Avatar reached down to the troupes pack and brought out a case, inside was a violin-like instrument in segments, the segments slotted together and as they did so, stings of light appeared. "It may not have the same sound as a lich fiddle but it works just as well," the Avatar said handing the instrument and its bow to Drakira. The newest harlequin rested the violin between her shoulder and jaw and gently ran the bow across the strings of light. Each string playing a different note and yet one that was so familiar to her. She played slowly and solemnly as her fingers added pressure to the strings changing their notes the haunting sorrow of her music was magnified. Drakira closed her eyes and continued playing unaware that she was pouring all the sorrow and pain from her heart into her music, the sound was beautiful and terrible, a mixture of hate, sorrow, anger and most of all pain shared through the universal language of music, a largo that brought tears to the eyes of her fellow Harlequins as they felt the anguish and grief played in the young Trueborn's dirge. More then that Drakira noticed she was starting to dance as she played, gently swaying and twirling with the violin as if trying to dance out her tragic tale. When she next sat down her face was stained with tears as were her companions though their full masks hid them. Handing the instrument back to Endaryn, Drakira returned to her seat. Anaerin put his arm around her and squeezed her comfortingly, the Death Jester didn't say anything but his silence told her that through the music she had played her companions now knew her grief and mourning.

Skindread returned dragging with him the bled corpse of a native animal to the planet similar to a cow though less bulky, but more than enough for everyone to eat and it would give them more than enough supplies to preserve. Khalix was the first to inspect the kill. "It's a good prize, looks like your little pet _is _earning his keep, Drakira" the Mime said petting Skindread. After eating and preserving the remaining meat for travel the troupe slept under the stars, Anaerin took the first watch while the others rested up. Drakira's eyes were heavy she curled herself up in a blanket watching the glistening celestial lights of the night sky before yawning. Skindread lay next to her half-asleep but instantly becoming alert at any noise or sign of movement.

Again the twisted dreams plagued Drakira she tossed and turned in her sleep as the horrifying visions seemed more real then life itself. When she awoke it was just before dawn the rest of the troupe were packing up ready to move on. Drakira assisted and enquired as to why they were going to Iyanden. Chandra, the Shadowseer smiled at the young Trueborn swathed in black, purple and gold. "We travel south-east to Craftworld Iyanden to provide entertainment to their people and see how they are coping since their great losses," she said. "It has been a while since our last visit and we visit to see whether their numbers are recovering," the Shadowseer explained. Drakira started thinking, she had never seen a Craftworld before bar from the archaic outpost that Jester had kept her in while her wounds healed. She had raided many of the supply ships that were bound for Craftworlds or leaving them in pursuit of trade. She remembered those days fondly but now that seemed like a life-time ago. She felt the rage burn inside her, she had a hunger for vengeance that haunted her like She Who Thirsts had haunted her race since The Fall. Khalix, the Mime watched her, as if analyzing her thoughts, he was the most fascinating to Drakira not because he shared Commorragh in common with her but because he refused to talk about his life in Commorragh, then again he didn't talk much as is.

The great space-bourne city was far different to what Drakira was used to in Commorragh. While the Dark City was a labyrinthine maze of jagged spires and dark obsidian gladiatorial arenas, levels upon levels of the same twisted entanglement of dark dwellings and sinister covens this was a vast sea of light. A horizon of domes and illuminated constructs. Drakira was fascinated by it but felt anxious at the openness of the Craftworld. Her eyes drifted down to the lower levels she knew that there were thousands and thousands of levels beneath her but looking down they appeared as one solid level. She leant over the banister trying to see the other levels then she felt Anearin's strong grasp on her shoulder, pulling her back. "Many have felt Death's touch from becoming entranced by Iyanden's beauty" he said simply. The young Trueborn looked back then followed her piers towards a welcome party of Eldar.


End file.
